


soft hips

by Sedusa



Series: Be More Chill one-shots [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Body Worship, M/M, Trans Rich Goranski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 16:29:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15666960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sedusa/pseuds/Sedusa
Summary: When Rich pointed this out, Michael laughed to test it, and then laughed again because it was true. It had made Rich’s throat clench and his chest flutter and he’d kissed him, mid-giggle, because that just seemed like the right thing to do.





	soft hips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vanceypants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanceypants/gifts).



> While only briefly mentioned, any fic I write featuring Rich Goranski in has him as trans.

After the SQUIP was gone, and Rich had started acting somewhat independently --

(flexing the parts of himself he’d ignored for so long, really; going into a library for the first time in two years a greater rush then the three Mountain Dews he downed that same night just to get a few more hours of reading in because, God, he had missed this so _ badly _ )

\-- it sometimes frustrated him that nobody seemed to catch on. There was Jake of course, but, man, Jake didn’t really count when there was still this silent… expectation all around him that he’d keep up the same artificial dimwittedness from before. That, when he said something a little more observational then he had before, all they could do was look at him with mild discomfort, only to continue on as if it hadn’t happened. That it was just… a momentary glitch.

… well. To be fair, most of his behavior wasn’t fake; he really was that gross and loud (the artificial parasite had at least been right about one thing: there was a lot of things he picked up from the scum he slept near). But that didn’t mean he was an  _ idiot _ , or that this encapsulated the whole of his being.

Really, he had just hoped he could stop trying so hard to sound normal. But SQUIPs hadn’t created social dynamics, they just manipulated them.

… which was just one of the ways Michael Mell continued to prove himself Boyfriend of the Year.

Sure, all the “outsider kids”--like Queere--fit outside the scope of traditional social structure, or at least, their place was as the designated Other, but! But. 

Michael didn’t  _ want _ to play that game.

Which made him something more Other then the Outsider, which were classified in part by their constant longing to try and find a way  _ in _ . Rich certainly had, back then. 

It’s just, this game wasn’t Michaels style. In fact, Michael and the hierarchy of society, period, just didn’t really  _ jive _ . He was content in his place--no, seemed to actively  _ relish _ in it. And that meant he rolled with the quirks of everyone around him, because his confidence wasn’t an act, and his peers weren’t threats to his carefully constructed personality.

So when Rich did things “out of character”, like spend a night shut away reading the same twenty books he had just last week, because he felt like he missed something and it was just something  _ fun _ that he liked doing, he didn’t have to worry about Michael’s quiet disapproval and careful tiptoe around the subject.

… God, he loved Michael so fucking  _ much _ . That addictive, inconceivably pure acceptance of the world around him really was just one of his (many) high points.

With another being, God, have you  _ seen _ his body?

Did you know his toes curl in on themselves when he laughs? They don’t relax until he stops. When Rich pointed this out, Michael laughed to test it, and then laughed again because it was true. It had made Rich’s throat clench and his chest flutter and he’d kissed him, mid-giggle, because that just seemed like the right thing to do.

Oh, and the way Michael’s skin was blotchy and discolored in a natural gradient across various spots that seemed to move on a regular basis. Rich would think he’d mapped out Michael’s form in its entirety, and then, something new would blossom somewhere else and he’d have another place to trace in his mind. Constantly shifting, yet never really changing. The Michael paradox.

… that sounded so hopelessly lovesick, it was nauseating to even think about. It’s just… Everything about Michael made him feel really, _ really _ happy.

“ _ Oh, _ ” a beat. “Good morning to you too.”

Rich’s mouth could find it’s way to Michael’s throat in his sleep, which was good because that’s where he still sorta was. His dreams had been shameless in their steamy passion, and now, half awake, he could only cling to his stupidly cute boyfriend who made him feel all kinds of mushy and gay emotions.

His hands lazily roamed across Michaels killer body, from the curve of his thighs to the small of his back, and then, his chest. Soft breathing and a steady heartbeat beneath his fingertips.

Rich wanted to see this for himself. He grunted and squirmed, the stiff bedding of Michaels’ old mattress (they didn’t usually bother with going upstairs, but Rich didn’t understand impulse control and he was really curious, so he’d pulled Michael upstairs for the night and shut them both away) slipping around and making this a little harder than it should’ve been. Soon enough, he’d settled his legs between Michaels, sitting upright.

The way Michael’s lips never really closed always looked so erotic. Combining that with the way his eyes  _ almost _ disappeared behind his eyelashes when they fluttered was enough to make a man weep.

… not that Rich had  _ ever _ cried over how beautiful his boyfriend was. Nope.

God. He wished they’d brought Michael’s honey lotion up with them. The way Michael’s skin could catch a light…  _ oh _ . But for now, he was content to lean forward, the first real kiss of the morning just as perfect as always.

When he pulled back, he could feel Michael’s erection brush against his stomach, and he grinned. Rich could never get over the fact that he--tiny, scarred, and mid-transition--actually had the ability to turn his boyfriend on.

It made him feel powerful. He wanted  _ more. _

Michaels thunder thighs fit comfortably in Rich’s hands. He pressed the ball of his palm from the bottom of Michael’s inner thigh upwards, a slow slide towards his stomach. Extra padding gave a give to the skin that was such a pleasant texture Rich couldn’t help using his other hand on the opposite side of the same thigh--as if he could wrap around the form with both hands.

Michael’s eyes fluttered closed at some point, and he now gave an unconscious hum in appreciation. Rich beamed, and the weight of his hands shifted, fingertips drawing small circles in a gentle massage before he moved to the other thigh.

He was content to focus on this for several minutes, transfixed. Eventually, he decided to turn his attention towards Michael’s sweet breasts.

Oh, Rich loved these. The soft fat here wasn’t as present as they were elsewhere, but they still had a pillow quality to them that just...  _ God _ . Motorboat worthy, even if Michael made fun of him every time. He cupped both in his hands, thumb skimming across the nipples, punctuated with an audible inhale. He watched as his touch made skin blossom with goosebumps, and placed a small kiss against sternum.

Having leaned forward, it became apparent Michael could probably impale someone now. Still, he waited a few moments more, mouth moving to one nipple, tongue sliding against it.

“ _ Fuck _ , Rich.”

Beautiful. He grinned, and finally let himself pull back, all touch leaving Michael completely. “You rang?”

A half-lidded glare, offset by an involuntary smile. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“Not at all.” Rich’s hand finally gripped the base of that gorgeous fucking cock, as much a delayed blessing to him as it was Michael. “Feel free to elaborate.”

And with that, Rich used his very best deepthroat skills to steal the breath right out of him.


End file.
